


Lonely Days

by vb2096



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Doctor's fantasies, Domestic, F/M, Gen, Light Angst, Masturbation, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, casual day activities, time lords sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vb2096/pseuds/vb2096
Summary: The Doctor's long empty days are starting to be unbearable. One morning the TARDIS surprises him with a mysterious message. The text makes him wander to all the very wrong places.





	Lonely Days

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently enjoying the Broadchurch soundtrack way too much. Highly recommended for the story!  
> Not a native English, but tried my best.

A deep growl echoed in the Doctors bedroom as he stretched his arms. Still laying on his bed he rubbed his eyes and looked around. It was dark, it was always dark there. His bedroom was navy blue with a galaxy view on the ceiling. Not just painted stars but the real ones that the TARDIS was letting him see through it. In one corner there was a big comfy bed that he was currently occupying. He didn't sleep much but it was still necessary. Actually, the Doctor noticed he was recently sleeping much more than before. Dreaming was letting him forget, letting him feel free.

His bedroom wasn't really _alien_. It was similar to the ones he'd seen in his Earth-companions houses. On one of the walls there was a rather huge mirror, wardrobe and a few drawer cabinets next to it. The other was all taken by a wide and high shelf with a pretty impressive books collection. In front of it there was a big armchair and a small table with a proper reading light. The last corner was filled with a few guitars he loved.

The Doctor finally got up and went to the kitchen. The TARDIS already made him a cup of coffee that he could smell around. Best wife, he thought. It felt so domestic, since when he'd become domestic? He's spending too much time with humans, he thought.

The Doctor ruffled his hair as he took a sip of the hot drink and gave a content hum. He shot a glimpse down his hips and realised there was still a little too evident morning bulge in his yellow pyjama boxers. Not that he bothered. He was alone at the moment. Sometimes he was wondering why his body actually does that. He wasn't really interested in human _stupid_ activities, Time Lords were beyond that. He haven't been thinking of anything inappropriate for a long time... Yes, he had used to do that, sometimes. When Clara had still been there, when she's been walking around, hypnotizing him. It hadn't been that he'd only enjoyed her perfectly curved body, her short skirts, lovely small hands... He'd loved her entirely, he'd admired her smile, the way she talked, the way she smelled. It all had been keeping him half-hard for hours. He had had no idea what to do with it, how to fix it.

The Doctor finished his coffee and headed to the bathroom. Looked in the mirror that gave back a view of a grey, skinny man with really tired eyes. But wasn't he handsome anyway? The Doctor was trying to convince himself everyday. He also seemed sad. He was always sad. How could he be happy when everything around was so complicated and he felt so alone, just left there in the middle of his greatest frights.

He shook his head, slipped the underwear down and got in the shower. He was washing his hair slowly with precision massaging his head gently. He gave a cat-like purr closing his eyes. Then he took care of the rest of his lean body as his aching erection slowly gave up under the cold water.

The Doctor went out off the shower, dried himself, wrapped the towel around his waist and decided to shave as well. His cheeks were holding a decent stubble already.

Why did he care though? Who did he want to look good for? He needed it for himself, to feel at least a tiny bit better. He enjoyed it. His everyday body-care habits and thinking about the best outfit that would make him a bit more, somehow, dashing. Or... Maybe he was trying to be prepared? What if somebody came back, what if she.... No. Yes. _That's the trouble with hope, it's hard to resist._

As soon as the Doctor was done he used his best refreshing aftershave, the amazing smell spread in the bathroom, and went back to the bedroom. With his hair still humid he prepared his favourite clothes. He threw the towel aside and got into another pair of question mark boxers and comfortable black trousers. He started searching for a belt that somehow disappeared. Made a mental note to look for it later and continued dressing up. He digged for his red t-shit that soon smoothly embraced his skinny chest. Finished with the black holey jumper, stripped socks and heavy boots. The Doctor has to check it properly in the mirror. It was fine, he really liked his skinny body, liked how his new clothes fitted it.

Combing his almost dry curls with his long fingers he spotted the missing belt hung on one of the guitar stands.

"Well, it's gonna be useful." he said to himself and took it. Trousers slipping from his hips would be rather annoying.

He was heading to the console room while putting it in. The buckle gave a loud clang as he fastened it. He's stopped by one of screens that changed a picture. It was a text message ready to open. The Doctor hesitated for a second but let his old girl show him it eventually.

_I just wanted the Twelve to do it._

"Is that all?" he was really confused by the sentence.

Was he the Twelve? Not really, when he thought about it. Thirteen, Fourteen, maybe. It couldn't be about him. And do  _what_?

Suddenly he saw another message.

_Gallifreyan do not do it. They do not notice such things._

Apparently, he couldn't read it all at once. There was one sentence and he had to plead the TARDIS to show him the next one. She wanted him to think of every word, didn't she? He started to analyse the second text. Was it about the thing he had in his mind earlier this day? Who was this message from?

"There's more, show me." he commanded.

_He has no idea that his slender fingers drive me crazy._

The Doctor was getting more and more confused.

"Come on, next, darling." he said but the words didn't change. She wanted him to think, yes, but he was too curious. "What is it all about? Whose fingers? Why Crazy?"

Finally he received more text.

_That his voice gives me a shiver every time he opens his delicious mouth._

Wow, but who the fuck is _he_?

_He is so adorable with the long grey curls, I really love this face of his._

Wait, was it possible it's all about him? He'd used to have long grey curls before, but why would somebody call him the Twelve then?

"Maybe..." he muttered frowning "No."

It couldn't be about his current self. Who would write something like this to him? Was it Clara? It sounds very human. But would she ever be attracted to him? Maybe another human? A woman? He remembered Bill explaining him that he looks like a decent but older man for humans. She'd said that they all assume the most of them is attracted to opposite sex, which means if he looked like a man there could be some women who would find him good looking. Then Bill had also explained that some men could fancy him in-that-way (whatever it means) as well. He couldn't get it though. Humans were all too weird about sexuality, especially about gender. Did it mean that if he looked like a woman there would come human men and want to have human sex with him? Or women? And just like this? Or what? Well, never mind, he had to focus on the message.

_The way his shirt was caressing the pale skin of his chest..._

"Yeah, definitely human." he said "They have a weird issue about chest, maybe because it holds their most important only one heart." but then he spotted another text.

_The way he was talking about_ _the possible points in the complex projective space_ _of a Hilbert space._

Quantum physics. Educated human?

_I like to help him, he always seem so lost, guiding him, it's the only thing I can do for him._

He was wondering again about the person and the answer hit him. Another idea came to his mind. Was it the TARDIS? His old girl. Would she be able to fancy someone? She's from Gallifrey but not a Time Lord. He had no idea. He couldn't believe it's her. Maybe he shouldn't ask it at all. Maybe the person didn't matter, maybe he should just keep reading. It was all about him. Should he focus on what it said about him?

_I wanted the Twelve to do it._

It said again. Before he came with an idea the screen showed another word.

_Touch his own perfect body._

The Doctor felt strange. He swallowed and exhaled sharply. He had been thinking about it. The times with Clara. He had heard it helps. He still had no idea how though. But it was tempting. He remembered the tension he was trying to ignore this morning. Maybe it would be better if he just worked himself off. He had no idea what he's doing but he rubbed his crotch gently against the edge of the console. It felt nice. Wrong nice.

_Exactly._

He jumped a bit taken aback by the comment he saw on the screen. Was someone watching him? Or he was right and it's the TARDIS speaking?

_When I was alone I imagined him undoing his belt gently. He was already hard. The outline of his thick cock visible in a purple-blue light._

"Oh" he whispered and licked his lips "that has got interesting."

He knew he was  _endowed,_ as people call it. He wasn't sex obsessed like the most of his companions but he could tell if this part of his body looked good.

The Doctor took a deep breath and undid his belt, the sound of the fly echoed loud around quiet room. Too quiet. The beeping stopped and the humming was surprisingly pleasing. It was tempting, he was curious... He thought that maybe he should just try...

_He would look amazing while gasping for air, just letting it go._

And the Doctor stopped thinking. He didn't want to but he imagined himself doing it and actually started to act the way they wanted him to. He caressed himself through the trousers for a while. He had no idea it could feel so good. But he was worried in the same time. Was it wrong that he had a mental image of him doing it but from another persons point of view? Like he was watching himself on a video. He wanted to do it and see it. He wanted to know how it would look like for somebody else, maybe... Clara? What would she do if she saw him like this? Would she be mad? Disgusted? Or would she enjoy it?

For a moment the Doctor suspected that maybe somebody was actually watching him and gave him a telepathy image, that's why he saw himself, but he was already too light-headed to think. He finally took himself out and gave his already hard cock a few slow strokes.

And his mind tried to fight again. What if it was just his old girls trick? Did she want him to do it and to feel bad about it? Or maybe good? A few strokes later - he didn't care. If it was her idea, she's going to get what she wanted anyway.

He started to move faster, sometimes touching cold metal parts of the console with his hot bare skin. The contrast was overwhelming. He gave a loud moan, he wasn't trying to be quiet. The Doctor had no idea why he was doing it but he just wanted to try. All the tough days with Clara. Maybe it would help relieve him from the thoughts. He should have done it earlier. It felt amazing.

The Doctor licked his thumb and started to circle the tip of the head. It was so overwhelming, he closed his eyes breathing heavy. He felt like his body was burning inside, like he was going to explode.

A minute later a deep groan echoed around as he bucked his hips forward and came all over the console buttons and switches with a few thick doses.

Suddenly, he had no idea where he was. Everything started to go black, the console room spinning around him. Seconds later his heavy body hit the metal floor with a loud thud.

 


End file.
